Negative Dimensions
by a-lonely-scribe
Summary: Alfred starts another year of graduate school stuck in an office with Ivan and despairs. Except. Alfred had never planned on Dr. Arthur Kirkland. AU. One Shot.


****_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. This story is just for fun._

_Also, I know nothing about physics so that is part of the reason why Alfred spends all of his time laughing at Arthur. I am basically Arthur. _

* * *

Alfred had never actually interacted with Dr. Arthur Kirkland. The man was an enigma and floated around the Faculty of Science putting his nose in everyone else's research and performing experiments about faeries. The man was cracked, but was supposed to be one of the most brilliant scientific minds of the day. The Dean of Physics was a crotchety old man, who didn't put up with anyone's bullshit, regardless of their supposed brilliance and as such Kirkland tended to leave the Physics Department well enough alone. The Dean was quite sadistic and found pleasure in annoying Kirkland and tormenting his graduate students. And that was how Alfred found himself, yet again, sharing an office space with Ivan Braginski.

The two hated each other with a blind passion and the tension was damn near edible when they were in the same room. It felt like the cold war (which made Alfred laugh when he told Matthew about the tall Russian, and Matthew had made an off-colour comment comparing their race for funding to nuclear arms, and Ivan and Alfred's relationship had gone steadily downhill from there). So Alfred had been surprised one sunny, but cold, winter afternoon when Kirkland burst into their shared office space, oblivious to the cold rage that spilled out of the doorway, demanding imperiously that one of them help him with a project involving negative dimensions in space. Neither Alfred nor Ivan wanted to help the mad doctor and their eyes locked over their computer monitors in muted tension. The first one to break eye contact lost.

But it just wasn't fair that Ivan was an unscrupulous bastard and his demon eyes bore into Alfred's as he began muttering in Russian under his breath. This was completely creepifiying, especially with the soft pleasant smile he was wearing. Alfred, in complete horror, jerked his eyes away and grinned at the mad scientist with a thumbs up. Anything to get the heck out of that room.

* * *

Luckily for Alfred his slow demise at the hands of Arthur Kirkland and his mad scientistry was put on hold until after Christmas. The Dean declared that Kirkland could have Alfred if he gave him a new office in whatever building Kirkland usually worked in. Apparently terrified students had been complaining to the Dean about going into an office which had both Alfred and Ivan in it at the same time. Alfred figured that the complaints wouldn't stop. After all the common denominator in the word terror was always Ivan Braginski. So while the downside of all this was putting up with the nutty professor, working with him, researching for him, and for him, at least he was going to get his own space and not have to deal with Ivan anymore.

Except Alfred hadn't planned on Arthur Kirkland. Sure he knew that he was crazy and demanding, but most of the people he worked with were some combination of the two, and he had figured that anything that got him away from Ivan was a good thing. Damn his optimism. When Alfred walked into the man's office on a cold blustery January day he had not expected the man to be elbow deep in dangerous looking chemical concoctions and drawing pictures of mythical creatures.

Alfred stood there and watched for a full five minutes while the other measured out coloured liquids and muttered to himself before awkwardly clearing his throat, "Doctor Kirkland?"

The man jumped and his blazing green eyes pinned Alfred against the wall behind him. "Ah. Yes. You. My grad student. What is your name again boy?"

Alfred bristled at the imperial tone of voice and regretted all his decisions to come here, "Alfred. Alfred Jones."

"You are a physics student?"

"Yes."

"Good." His tone barely lightened, "Come here then. I need you to do some calculations for me."

Alfred warily made his way around to the other man's work station and wondered how he got away with carting dangerous chemicals around in a room that was clearly not a lab. "What is it?"

"I need to find negative dimensions in space."

"Uh. Why?"

Kirkland stared at him, green eyes narrowing in agitation. "To find the faeries of course."

Alfred could not help himself. He knew he shouldn't. He knew that he was going to be back in that closet space with Ivan for his behaviour. But there was just no stopping the shout of laughter that sprang forth from his lips. And as Kirkland's huge furrowed eyebrows creased downward over his nose angrily, making the man look like a constipated hawk, there was no stopping the mirth. Soon Alfred was bent over the table, clutching at his stomach, his laughter coming out of his mouth in weak gasps.

"Get the fuck out of my office you bloody wanker."

Oh yes. It was back to the shoebox office and Ivan Braginski for sure.

* * *

But Alfred was back there the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. And the day after that. And before long he did not fear the man's British swear words, angry green eyes, or monstrous eyebrows the way the rest of the science faculty did. There was much more bark than bite to the Englishman's demeanour and Alfred soon learned just how far he could push the older man before he truly crossed the threshold of bodily harm. And it seemed that Arthur didn't really mind Alfred's company for all that he constantly complained about Alfred leaving his books and work and calculators and empty chip bags all over their shared office space. At least it was a lot bigger than the one he had shared with Ivan. And at least Arthur, though cranky and undeniably bitter, was not terrifying.

"That is it."

Alfred jumped in his chair as Arthur slammed his hands down on the work table, making beakers jump and their liquid slosh dangerously close to the brim. "Whats it?"

"This!" Arthur gestured around the cluttered office space, "I cannot work in this mess. I shall not."

Alfred shrugged, it wasn't that messy, and went back to his calculations. He listened to the Englishman putter around for a bit, slamming huge ancient books full of folklore shut and placing them haphazardly on bookshelves. Neither of them were much of a hand at organization. Or neatness. Finally he stopped and Alfred heard the tap run in the background. "Did you finish finding negative space yet?"

Alfred smirked, and wondered again how this man had been hired by the university to teach and who he had swindled out of money to fund his research. Arthur was supposed to be a genius, but he didn't seem to know all that much about physics. Arthur's ideas seemed like something right out of some crossover between a fantasy and a science fiction novel. "Ah. No. Artie, you do realise that most of this is theoretical right?"

Arthur glared at him and Alfred threw him his winning smile, which only served to increase Arthur's glare. The kettle boiled and Arthur only stopped glaring at Alfred in order to make his tea. "Alternate reality."

"What about 'em?"

"Find me one. We are going to go there."

Alfred burst out laughing again. And continued to do so even when Arthur demanded that he leave his office. He wasn't leaving and he definitely was not going to try and access an alternate reality. "You have been watching too much Doctor Who."

Arthur's eyebrows hunched over his eyes at this mention and he turned away from the cackling graduate student in a huff.

* * *

Matthew had demanded to meet the 'dread' Arthur Kirkland. Alfred put him off, because quite frankly his boss was insane and didn't play well with the other kids. But now he couldn't do that any longer because the school was having some science event and the hope was that people would come and give them money. And Alfred had to go because he needed to convince someone to give him grant money. And Arthur, that fucking pirate, was good at charming money out of people apparently. And that was just something that Alfred had to see with his own eyes. Matthew was alumnus and even though he had graduated with a Bachelor of Arts, somehow he was still entitled to attend this event.

The two were dressed up wearing suits, looking much too matching in their cracking bathroom mirror, and Alfred kept fiddling with the tie and the lapels and hated everything about the damn suit. Matthew wore his better, used to it because he wore one to work every single day. "Ready to go?" His twin smirked and Alfred swore in his head, regretting the day that he agreed to go to this thing with Matthew.

The foyer of the auditorium was packed with people all mingling about and looking fancier than they ought to for some meet and greet where students and professors basically begged people for money. Alfred caught Arthur's eye from across the room, where he was talking the ear off some lady in a spangly red dress. "That is him there, with the monstrous eyebrows, talking to the babe in red."

Matthew raised both his eyebrows, "He looks younger than I thought."

"You thought about it? Why?"

"I dunno. You just keep coming home with all these stories and I figured he'd be some old eccentric dude."

Alfred waved his hands in front of his face. "Okay. No. Nonononono. You are not meeting him."

"Why not?"

"You are not hitting on my boss Matt. No way. Not gonna happen."

Matthew shot him a completely unimpressed look. "I do not throw myself upon every man I meet."

Alfred snorted, "Yeah whatever. You are still not meeting him. I have to work with him everyday."

"Al. I have a fucking boyfriend."

"Uhhuh."

Matthew threw his hands up in the air, "Oh for fuckssakes. Fine. I'll go scope out some unsuspecting wealthy woman for you, and I'll charm her so she'll give you money 'cause dude you got no game."

"Hey! I got game! I got loads of game!"

Alfred didn't even bother interpreting the next expression his twin sent him. "Why don't you just go hang out with your lover, Bushy McFierce Eyebrows, and I'll go get you some grant money. Don't want Ivan to get it all first do you?"

Alfred was torn between agreeing with his brother, defending his ability to charm women, and disagreeing with the fact that Arthur was his lover. But the truth was that Matthew could draw some wealthy woman, or man, in and convince them to fund Alfred's physics experiments with much more ease than he could. There was a reason Matthew and his stupid gilded tongue had gone into politics. Also he didn't want Ivan to get all the money. And furthermore he did want to go over to where Arthur was, still holding the lady in the red dress in thrall, and find out how the bitter man did it.

* * *

Alfred never did find out how Arthur charmed money out of people despite his rude manner (hidden under the sheer veneer of a gentleman) and coarse way of talking. However, he did not find the night to be a complete waste. No, actually it had been one of the most successful nights he had ever had in his university career (and that included the night that he got kicked out of two bars, threw up on a professor's car and still managed to take a girl home). Not only had Matthew successfully roped two people into giving Alfred money, but he had managed to do some wrangling of his own.

Okay so it wasn't wrangling so much as he started talking to a woman in the hopes that she would give him money, only to be distracted by how pretty she was. And then further distracted by Ivan's murderous glares from across the room as the girl had laughed and explained that she wasn't there to give money, but that she was Ivan's older sister and had come to visit him. And then Alfred had blushed as they continued talking. And he tried not to glare as Matthew talked with Arthur (against Alfred's direct orders, the asshole!) and made vaguely obscene gestures that were more reminiscent of Gilbert than his brother.

Ivan's older sister was wonderful. She had been living out of town, but was thinking of coming back. And she had a beautiful smile. And eyes. And voice. And accent.

And according to Matthew he was waxing poetic. Loudly. And constantly. And annoyingly.

"You are acting like you are dating her! Shut up already."

"But Matt. Did you see her? Did you see her eyes? They were like the colour of..." and he trailed off as Matthew got this glint in his eyes that bespoke murder.

And then Alfred smirked, "She said we should hang out sometime. See Matt? I got game!"

He didn't miss the way his twin rolled his eyes heavenward and threw down the names of the people whom had promised Alfred money on the kitchen table. "Good job Al. I'm so proud of you." He didn't miss the sarcasm either.

* * *

Part of Alfred's due as Arthur's graduate student was to attend what Arthur referred to as a very important conference. It was neither a conference nor was it important. Rather it was a gathering of Arthur and two of his colleagues (or friends, since colleague was a strong word for the two nut jobs in Arthur's living room) at Arthur's house. Apparently this 'conference' was all about trolls. Though Alfred doubted that the topic would be so limited. Arthur was obsessed with faeries and Alfred doubted that the green-eyed man would let something like trolls dominate the discussion.

Alfred had no desire to stay and listen while they discussed things that did not exist and attempt to apply real science to their crazy aspirations. He had his phone open under the table and was frantically texting Matthew, hoping that his brother would call him and fake an emergency in which Alfred absolutely had to go home. Like their house burning down or their parents dying. Unfortunately Matthew was an unmitigated asshole and was mostly just sending back texts that expressed how hilarious he thought the situation was. It was not hilarious.

In lieu of rescue from his dickhead brother, Alfred amused himself by sending colourful descriptions of Arthur's 'colleagues' to Katya. Matthew would have probably gotten more of a kick out of Alfred's running commentary, but Alfred was now ignoring all of his brother's texts. Katya seemed to believe that his descriptions were mean spirited, but Alfred was just telling it as it was. It was not his fault that Arthur's friends were weird.

The one man looked like he had been carved out a of a glacier and his ice blue eyes stared through everyone he looked at. The other man had sharpened his teeth to fangs and refused to take off his trench coat. They were both creepifying and Alfred was shocked to see that among these two Arthur could almost be considered normal. Except Arthur was currently flapping around the room giving a lecture on why dragons used to exist in the English countryside. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

"What in the bloody fuck is this?" Arthur stormed into their shared office waving around a picture. Alfred smiled winningly. Apparently Arthur had found one of the pictures that Alfred had pinned up all over campus.

"Which one did you find?" And heedless to the British man's fury, Alfred clasped the picture and grinned when he saw it. It was of a younger Arthur, drunk, wearing a ripped t-shirt, skin tight plaid pants, a pirate hat, and sporting numerous facial piercings. "How could you take this down? Its classic Artie."

"How the bloody hell did you get these pictures?"

Alfred grinned, "From your house."

Arthur's huge eyebrows slid down over his furious green eyes and his voice rose, "Get all those pictures that you put up off the walls! NOW! And then get the fuck out of this office!"

"Com'on Artie," he laughed, holding up his hands protestingly, "It was just a joke."

"Get them all now! And pack up your stuff! And get it the fuck out of my office you bloody buggering wanker!"

"Artie?"

"Now Alfred!"

Alfred scampered out of the office in fear for his life. Arthur would have cooled down in a few days. He hoped.

* * *

Alfred lay low for about a week before venturing back into their shared office. He may have been hasty and reckless, but he was not without self-preservation. And an angry Arthur was a scary Arthur. Plus the mad professor had been experimenting with volatile chemicals lately in various attempts to make gold. Alfred had no desire to become a test subject for Arthur's witchery.

Arthur was idly drinking tea and reading over some ancient looking handwritten notes when Alfred finally decided it was safe to return to the office. He didn't even look up when Alfred walked in. "Hey Artie."

Arthur grunted and sipped his tea.

Alfred sat down across from him, wary of the all the chemicals on the table. "What's up for today?"

Arthur grunted again and flipped a page, continuing to read the spidery handwriting. Alfred leaned over to take a look and noticed that Arthur looked funny. He stared at him for a minute, pushing his glasses up his nose intently. Then it dawned on him. Arthur was missing the caterpillars he referred to as eyebrows. "Holy Jesus! What happened to your eyebrows Artie?"

Arthur glared, but it lacked its usual effect without the ginormous eyebrows, "Accident."

"Dude, you actually look good without those monsters. You should regularly wax 'em down or something."

"Don't you have an alternate reality or something to find?"

Alfred laughed, "Nope. Told you that wasn't gonna happen Artie."

"Why the fuck am I keeping you around then?"

"You just like my company."

* * *

Alfred was drunk. Alfred was beyond drunk. Alfred was hammered. Alfred was beyond hammered. Alfred was. Alfred was. Alfred was calling Arthur. He giggled as he held the phone to his ear and listened to the obnoxious ringing. No one answered. Alfred whined and slumped on the sidewalk. It smelled like piss. He wanted to go home. He called Matthew. He answered on the third ring. "Whassit?"

His voice was slurred, "Maaaaatt! Mattie-Matt-Matt. Come pick me up!" Alfred heard laughter and then the dial tone.

Bastard.

Alfred placed his forehead on the pavement. It was cold. And reeked of pee. Stupid sidewalk. He called Arthur again. Still no answer. Alfred stood up and stumbled over to a light post. He called Arthur's number again. A groggy and extremely grumpy voice answered this time.

"Arrrrrrrtttttiiieeeeeeeeeee," Alfred sang into the phone, face beaming.

"What the bloody fuck do you want asshole?"

He was in a good mood. "Artie come pick me up?"

"It's four in the morning," Arthur's tone was flat and unimpressed.

"Artie, I'm alone. Pleeeeeaaaase?"

"Get bent."

"Arrrttttiieeee," Alfred was whining.

Arthur hung up. Alfred redialed. And redialed. And redialed. And redialed. And redialed. And Arthur finally picked up with a long string of swear words before asking where Alfred was. Alfred squinted up at the street signs and grinned. Arthur hadn't learned yet. Matthew would have taken the battery out of his phone after the first call. If nothing else Alfred was relentless.

A car pulled up and Alfred shrank away, worried that it was a man who thought he was a prostitute. He thought about running away when the door swung open and an even more rumpled than usual looking Arthur poked his head out, "Get the fuck in here you wanker."

Alfred grinned and got in. "Artie!" He flung his arms around the sandy-haired man. Arthur flailed out of Alfred's embrace and took off like a shot.

"Touch me again and I will leave you here."

Alfred pouted and slumped in his seat, babbling endlessly about the night's exploits. When Arthur pulled up out front of Alfred's apartment, he reached his hand into his pocket and grinned apologetically, "I don't have my keys."

Arthur's frown intensified, but he said nothing as he pulled away from the curb. Alfred grinned when Arthur pulled into his own driveway and led the way into his house. "You can sleep on the couch."

Alfred grinned and bounded into the living room. He sang a song for Arthur in repayment, loudly and off-key.

"Alfred shut up. Its nearly five." Arthur threw a blanket at him and walked out of the room.

Alfred followed him, "Artie," he wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist and nuzzled his back, "I'm glad we are friends."

Arthur pulled himself out of Alfred's embrace. "We are not friends."

Alfred grinned.

"And if you ever call me at this time of night, drunk, ever again I will kill you."

Alfred's grin threatened to split his face. Oh yes. They were the best of friends.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Any and all criticisms are welcome. Also, if you find any spelling or grammatical errors let me know ASAP so I can fix them._


End file.
